


Lost souls and reverie

by thestarsinspace



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Gen, It's really just a mix of both G1 and TFP, Kinda, human!formers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsinspace/pseuds/thestarsinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple battle causes a chance accident that turns a handful of both Autobots and Decepticons human. </p><p>Now, both sides have a choice. </p><p>Work together to return themselves to their original forms, or let millennia of bitterness and hate destroy any hope of ever returning to their true bodies.</p><p>Their choices could change the outcome of the war. </p><p>For better, or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May the road rise up to meet you

“We knew the world would not be the same. Few people laughed, few people cried, most people were silent....Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds. I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.  
” –Robert Oppenheimer  
\--------------  
It was early in the morning and the sun had just began to peek over the horizon, just barely casting a faint glow onto the Ark that sat embedded into the mountain. The sun illuminated the hard metal of the ship, creating an aura of light around the silent Autobot Base.

It was the first time in weeks that the base was quiet; there were no Autobots running about in a frenzy or laser shots bouncing off the hull. It had been a busy month and a half for the Autobot army, with the Decepticons being much more active than usual. They were constantly and consistently attacking military bases and labs, searching for fuel and energy that they could convert into energon. 

They were running the Autobots ragged, though Prowl hypothesized that the Cons themselves could not be faring much better.

The sheer frequency of the attacks meant that the Decepticons were becoming desperate, and every single one of the Autobots knew that was never a good thing. 

It usually ended badly for one side or the other, and the Autobots were getting the short end of the stick more often than not. Desperate Decepticons were dangerous Decepticons. 

With the increasing rate of the attacks, it seemed that every time that the Autobots managed to drag themselves home tired, bruised, and worn, there was another distress call waiting for them. They would always respond, for it was their duty, but they were always exhausted upon returning to their ship turned home base. 

Every crew member was at their wits end, all the way from the top of the command structure down to the foot soldiers.

The medics were working triple overtime shifts to make sure that everyone was in top shape; the engineer crews were constantly repairing weapons and simultaneously trying to make them more effective. The tacticians and special operations were working tirelessly to come up with new strategies and tactics to make the fight more efficient, and to increase their chances of being victorious. 

Optimus Prime himself was working wherever he was needed, flitting between the med-bay and labs and meeting with the other officers, doing whatever was needed of him on top of running the entire Autobot army. 

With all of the constant running about and complete lack of rest, the entire crew was elated to finally have a few solid hours of rest and relaxation.  
\--  
A lone figure walked the deserted halls of the Autobot base. Chief Medical Officer Ratchet was slowly making his way down the straight hallway to his bunk room, occasionally stretching his limbs out in a desperate attempt to stay awake. 

He had just finished a two solar-cycle long duty shift in the med-bay and was looking forward to a few hours of recharge. He had worn himself out over the last month, constantly repairing and fixing any Autobot who came into the med-bay, and doing maintenance checks on anyone who felt that they needed it. 

Sometimes he loathed being the only fully trained medic on base.

Ratchet was actually leaving his shift early; Optimus had come in for a check on one of his pedes and noticed him dozing off against a stretcher. The Autobot leader had gently sent him off to recharge stating that he needed rest and that the medic could return back to duty when he had at least a few hours of solid recharge.

Ratchet had tried his patented Medic Glare©, but in the end it was futile to resist.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t functioning at full capacity, and there was the possibility he could make a dire mistake in his fatigued condition. It was this knowledge that led him to simply letting out a huff of his exhaust and heeding his commanding officers order. 

Optimus had a tendency to truly care for and worry about his troops, and Ratchet had an unmeasurable amount of respect for him because of that.

He slowly passed Jazz’s room, momentarily peeking in through the open doorway. Jazz had a tendency to accidently leave his door open, especially in times like this where he barely had the energy to make it to his room, let alone have the mental capacity to remember to close the door. 

The sports car was draped over the berth, sprawled out like he had just come in and collapsed on it, which he probably did, Ratchet thought warily.  
Jazz's left arm was swaddled in medical grade protective metal. The mech had lost his arm a few weeks before to a lucky shot from the Decepticons. Normally, Ratchet would be able to simply reattach the arm, but it had been a losing battle and the other Autobots had been unable to retrieve the appendage in their hurry to get Jazz off of the battlefield before he bled out.

The medic had to create a whole new arm; it was an intricate and lengthy process that was fortunately almost completed. A few more days of work from Ratchet and the arm would be good as the one that had been lost. 

The medic knew that Jazz had been working for over three days straight without rest (And against medical advice, but after the third time of forcibly dragging the mech out of the communications room, well, Ratchet recognized a losing battle when he saw one) and was elated that the mech was finally getting some well-deserved time off. Ratchet gave the sleeping form a small smile and quietly shut the door, leaving the other Autobot to sleep in peace. 

Ratchet staggered into his assigned room, almost tripping over a data pad that was haphazardly lying on the floor, among other things. He wasn’t the neatest Autobot on the ship, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment and he made a mental note to pick it up later. 

Ratchet collapsed on his bed, letting out a deep sigh at the feeling of being able to relax. He started to shut down his systems and slightly adjusted his position, moments away from falling asleep. The ambulance let air out of his intakes, closed his optics, and dropped into recharge.  
\--  
_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Ratchet shuttered open his optics at the sound of the alarm. Teletraan One was blaring loudly, announcing that there were reports of another Decepticon attack. The ambulance rolled quickly out of bed and joined the rush of mechs in the hall. All of the other Autobots in the corridor were rushing towards the main command center and Ratchet contentedly noticed that the others looked better; everyone was noticeably in better spirits and more energetic. 

He glanced at his internal chronometer and was astonished to see that a full 14 hours had passed. That was most definitely the longest break that they had all had, and also the longest continuous stretch of recharge he had gotten in a long time. 

As they passed the med-bay, Ratchet noticed Mirage trying to hobble out of the doorway. The spy had been on a surveillance mission to track the Deceptions and had accidently gotten caught at the wrong end of the blaster. The wounds had been fairly minor all things considered, but the mech still needed time to rest and heal before he was going to be able to be out in the field again. 

Ratchet stopped in front of Mirage and pointed his finger in a direction behind the other mechs head. 

“Go back to your berth right fragging now,” He growled “Or I’m welding you to it.” 

At Mirage’s stubborn glare, the medic crossed his arms and smirked. 

“And don’t even think about sneaking out. Your invisibility is on lock down until I medically clear you.”

Mirage’s glare turned into a sheepish grin as he slowly backed up into the med-bay. Satisfied that his patient wasn’t going to do anything stupid (this time), Ratchet continued down the hall to the command center.  
\--  
Optimus was already towards the end of briefing the gathered Autobots when Ratchet arrived in the room. Their leader had already sorted out who was going on the mission, and was standing in front of the small assembly of mechs. 

Among those in the crowd were Ironhide, Prowl, the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and Wheeljack. Jazz, who would normally be on a mission like this, was not in the unit due to his injury. The Porsche would be monitoring the battle communications from safely within the ARK.

The speech’s end was met with a resounding “Yes Sir!” from the rallied troops, who then began to disperse and prepare to leave for the battle. From what Ratchet had heard, the Decepticons were attacking at a remote lab not far from the Autobots own base. 

The mech snorted. How dumb did the Cons have to be to attack a base less than 10 miles from the Autobots home base? The short distance between the attack and their base meant that there was no point in firing up the groundbridge and wasting the energy, so it looked like they were going to have to drive.

Ratchet rolled his eyes. The Decepticons were stupider than he thought if they didn’t think that the Autobots would come and try to stop whatever ridiculous plan Megatron had come up with this time. 

He rubbed his shoulders to relieve an ache and made his way up to where the Prime was standing. Optimus was leaning over Teletraan-1 and rubbing a hand over his optics. The large mechs shoulders were slumped forward, and he was visibly exhausted. 

The medic ran a quick medical scan over his leader, and was unsurprised to find his energon levels low. They were all running low and he just knew that Optimus was taking less than his share to make sure that his troops had enough. 

Ratchet rolled his eyes at his leader’s idiocy as he pulled a ration of medical energon out of his subspace. 

He held out the small cube in front of Optimus. The leader turned towards him, noticed the small dose, and retracted his face mask. A slight smile adorned his face as he addressed his CMO. 

“Save it for a patient in need Ratchet.” He said, holding up a hand. “I am fine.” 

Ratchet levelled Optimus with a glare and held out the cube more insistently.

“Take the cube Optimus. Or as your CMO I will act upon my right to put you on medical leave, and we both know that you don’t want that.” He frowned. 

Optimus visibly deflated and sighed, not even bothering to argue. They both knew it was hopeless. Taking the small cube into his hand, he raised it to his mouth and drained it in one go. He gave Ratchet a look that clearly said ‘are you happy now?’

Ratchet gave a sigh of relief as he rescanned his leader and found markedly increased energon levels. He gave Optimus a glare, but didn’t put any fire behind it.  
The medic sighed. “You have to take better care of yourself, Optimus.” 

Optimus just smiled and placed a hand on the medic’s shoulder. 

“I know old friend. But we are in times of difficulty and my health is no more important than that of my soldiers.”

Ratchet narrowed his eyes to refute Optimus’s statement, but was interrupted as Teletraan beeped loudly, signifying that it was time to leave. Optimus gave him an apologetic look and headed out the door towards the Ark entrance. 

Ratchet let out a deep world-weary sigh and followed his leader out of the door.  
\--  
Ratchet was not one of the fastest bots in the group; an ambulance was not exactly one of the most aerodynamic vehicles, so the battle was already in full swing by the time he got there. Luckily, the enormous lab was already evacuated, so they did not have to worry about the humans running around and getting underfoot.

There were both empty and full energon cubes laying around; Ratchet figured that the Cons were already in the middle of their operation when the Autobots interrupted them. 

Ratchets transformed seconds before his alarms started blaring, and he threw himself to the ground moments before a missile rocketed over his head. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at the sky as a red, white, and blue F15 soared overhead. 

Ratchet dashed to cover as the jet maneuvered midair, twisting around to make a second run at the medic. He dove behind a broken piece of metal wall just in time as another missile exploded behind his head and the jet roared past him. 

Starscream didn’t make another pass, and Ratchet figured that he was busy being a nuisance somewhere else. Feeling safe for the moment, the medic peeked his head over the metal and scanned the battlefield, looking for anyone down or injured. 

He noticed Optimus and Megatron grappling near one of the deserted buildings, watching as the red and blue mech nimbly ducked under a roundhouse punch and spun to aim a powerful high kick at the Decepticon leaders face. The warlord blocked it and the two quickly resumed their battle. 

Leaving the two to their fight, Ratchet continued scanning the ruined base. Ironhide was trading shots with Soundwave to the left of one of the abandoned buildings. Both had taken cover and were popping up occasionally to aim a shot at their rival. 

The twins were proving annoying to Thundercracker and Skywarp with their self-proclaimed Jet-Judo. Sideswipe was using his balance and magnetic plating to essentially surf on Thundercracker’s back while Sunstreaker was latched onto Skywarp with a grip so tight that Ratchet wasn’t sure that even the Jaws of Life could separate them.

The red and white medic almost rolled his optics out of his helm because he just knew that he was going to have to do repairs on one or both of them by the end of the fight.

Prowl was busy with keeping Starscream occupied and away from his trinemates. Every time the jet tried to fly over to assist his teammates, Prowl would fire a well-aimed rocket to keep him at bay. 

The medic noticed a distinct lack of minicons around Soundwave, until he remembered that they were out of service, having been pretty heavily injured in the last fight thanks to Blaster. Said mech was now also laid up in Med-Bay after an enraged Soundwave had beaten him down in revenge for the damage to his minicons.

The last person that Ratchet noticed was Wheeljack, who was kneeling in front of a large contraption that was sitting innocently within the walls of one of the largest ruined buildings. The medic quickly made his way over to the engineer, who was frantically waving his hands in an erratic fashion in front of the machine.  
Said machine was obviously in bad shape, smoking and making a distinctly odd low pitched whirring sound. Ratchet stifled a groan as Wheeljack’s frantic muttering got more rapid and more explicit. 

That was never a good sign.

Ratchet waved a red hand in front of the engineer’s face to get his attention. Wheeljack swung his head around and jumped as if he hadn’t noticed the medic’s presence. Ratchet rolled his optics so hard he thought that they were going to roll right out of his helm. 

“Calm down, it’s just me.” He yelled over the uproar of the battle going on around them. “Can you tell me what this damned contraption does, ‘Jack?”

Wheeljack shrugged as he went back to fiddling with the mystery machine.

“No idea!” he hummed. “I’d say that it looks like a DNA scanner, but these components aren’t right. Either way, I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to do this, and I would rather it not blow up in our faces.”

Ratchet nodded. That was a good idea. Injuries meant more work for him, and that was something he tried to avoid at all costs. 

He started to examine the machine, trying to find the right wire or switch that could be used to shut it down. His trained eyes narrowed as they passed over a barely noticeable panel and he slowly pried it off. 

Inside were two large wires, one red, and one green.

Ratchets eyes narrowed even further. They looked like power cords, but he wasn’t sure which one would turn off the machine. He patted Wheeljack’s arm in an attempt to get his attention. 

Wheeljack spun around and noticed the panel that Ratchet removed. He pointedly ignored the medic’s yelp of protest as he quickly wiggled between the ambulance and the machine in an attempt to get a better look. 

The engineer quickly pointed to the red wire. “We cut that one. It should sever the power to the rest of the machine.”

Ratchet shook his head. “No, I don’t think so." He pointed to the green one. “That one looks like it goes to the power converter. Cutting it should shut the machine down.”

Wheeljack crossed his arms and glared stubbornly at his friend. 

“No, severing that one would cause the power to reverse and flood the machine. It would explode!” He waved his arms around for emphasis.  
Ratchet glared right back.

“Well, you would know. You _definitely_ have experience in that.” 

Wow. He could _feel_ the sarcasm as it rolled out his mouth.

Wheeljack had just opened his mouth to rant at the medic when a stray shot struck the open panel, blowing both engineer and medic backwards away from the machine. Ratchet didn’t even have time to think “Oh frag!” before his back hit the ground. 

He vaguely noticed Wheeljack land next to him, as he was already staring in mute horror as the machine started to emit deep black smoke and began to shudder. The steady low hum that it had been releasing had turned into a loud high-pitched shriek that was only getting louder by the minute. 

Ratchet and Wheeljack shared an alarmed look and scrambled to their feet just as the machine exploded, emitting a white light and knocking both Ratchet and Wheeljack back onto the ground and into unconsciousness. 

The white light expanded, quickly engulfing the entire battlefield. Neither Autobot nor Decepticon had any time to react before the blast wave washed over them.


	2. May the wind be always at your back

Ratchet blearily blinked his eyes open, and let out a long and intense string of rough curses when the light hit his face.

Squeezing his eyelids shut, he automatically tried to access his internal systems so that he could dim the amount of light entering his eyes. When it didn’t respond, he became vastly confused as to why his systems were ignoring his commands.

He tried to reboot his visual sensors, but the thought just increased the headache he had not noticed until then.

Ratchet grumbled under his breath as he planted a hand on the ground to lever himself up into a sitting position. He noticed that the ground had a different feel under his hands, but he brushed it off as being a malfunction from being knocked unconscious.

The medic still hadn’t opened his eyes as he tried once more to reboot his systems. When that failed, he began to worry. When a mech couldn’t access their own systems, it could signify that there was a frame-wide system failure going on. Taking some deep breaths before he panicked, Ratchet slowly opened his eyes.

_Well. This is weird._

There were approximately ten humans lying haphazardly around the ruins of the base, which was odd because last time Ratchet checked, the base had been abandoned right around when the Autobots and Decepticons decided to use it as an impromptu battlefield.

While he was trying to figure out what the frag all these human, unconscious ones at that, (there was something familiar about them, but he couldn’t put his finger on it) were doing, his brain caught up to his eyes.

The ground was a pit of a lot closer than it should have been.

Ratchet slowly blinked a few times before a dreaded sinking feeling settled into his stomach. He took a breath to compose himself as he exhaled and looked down.

The first thing he noticed were his digits (hands?). They were tan, rough and calloused, proof of years of hard work, yet when he flexed them, they clearly held the dexterity and steadiness of a surgeon.

These were his hands, he was sure of it.

_Oh frag._

His hands started to shake minutely as he explored the rest of his new form. He had one a plain black t-shirt underneath a deep red and white colored button-up jacket. The jacket had the Autobot insignia embellished on one side and the generic red medical cross on the other.

He ran his hands hesitantly over his stomach, taking in the feel of the fabric. That was not something he was used to.

The pants were a dark gray and tucked into a pair of sensible black combat boots that seemed scuffed and well-worn. He flexed his toes and marveled in wonder at the feeling of having separate digits on his feet.

Shaking his head to clear the momentary distraction, his hands wondered back up to his face. He felt his chin and the slight stubble that seemed to be there. His nose felt crooked, mirroring the nasal plate on his actual mechanical form.

Straight red hair was sensibly pulled back into a low and short ponytail. When Ratchet pulled some around to more closely examine it, he noticed there were a few thin silvered strands mingled in with the bold red.

Ratchet took a few more deep breaths before he lost his mind. This was certainly an unexpected development.

_This…will_ definitely _take some getting used to._

As he pulled himself away from his own thoughts, he scanned the barren field which had been so full of energy not so long ago.

As he surveyed the land, Ratchet let out a groan as he put two and two together and realized that the humans he saw lying unconscious earlier must have been both his fellow Autobots and the present Decepticons.

The medic slowly made his way to his feet, trying to adjust to the feeling of his new legs. Putting a foot forwards, he stumbled momentarily before catching himself and moving on.

Ratchet glared as he caught sight of the machine from earlier. It was a molten pile of scrap metal at this point and there was metal debris lying across the ground that had been a battleground not long ago.

He managed to easily put the simple factors together despite his pounding headache and came to the realization that the machine explosion must have been the cause of their current predicament.

As he was quietly musing what his next step should be when he heard a quiet groan coming from his right. Glancing over, he saw one of the humans moving slightly, bringing a hand up to their head and shaking it.

The medic quickly made his way over to the other human, and was stunned momentarily when he realized who exactly this mech (man?) was.

Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobot army, Protector of Cybertron, and bearer of the Matrix of Leadership shook his short blue hair as he moved into a sitting position on the ground.

Ratchet quickly moved into a kneeling position next to his leader and helped him to sit up all the way while deftly placing a hand on the other man’s wrist to check his pulse.

Never had he been happier to have studied human medicine when they realized that they were stuck on Earth.

Pleased with his findings, he turned his attention back to his friend. Noticing that Optimus was clearly trying to gather his wits, Ratchet stayed silent until the man looked at him in confusion.

The Autobot commander didn’t seem to at first comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, but Ratchet suddenly noticed something shift in his leaders bright blue eyes and he could see the man’s brain click into overdrive.

The Prime quickly scanned the battlefield and Ratchet could see the moment that Optimus figured out the situation by the way that the man’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth tightened into a straight line.

The Autobot leader glanced back at him and Ratchet saw Optimus look at him with a critical eye.

“Are you alright, Ratchet?” The Prime said in his deep bass. Ratchet was slightly comforted by the fact that his leader’s voice had not changed.

Ratchet nodded and waved him off.

“I’m fine. Are you okay? I don’t exactly have my scanners.” He said bitterly.

That was something that was irking him. His scanners and tools let him diagnose and treat his patients to the best of his ability, and without them, he felt useless. Sure, he had thoroughly studied human medicine, and knew how to diagnose and treat most illness and injuries, but his tools were a part of him. He felt sort of naked without them.

Optimus read the bitterness in his voice and gave him a small smile.

“I am okay, old friend. But we seem to be in quite the situation.” He said as he frowned and regarded the other humans who still lay unconscious around the base.

Ratchet snorted. “Understatement of the cycle Optimus.”

The medic straightened his knees and stood up straight, stretching out a hand and helping Optimus off of the ground, steadying the taller man when he wobbled slightly. The Prime brushed the dirt off of his red and blue military style jacket and stretched his arms to adjust to his new and unexpected body.

Ratchet observed Optimus rub a hand over his scruffy face and freeze, realizing the loss of his face mask. He knew that Optimus could remove the mask at any point in time, but normally chose not to. The man was obviously a bit disconcerted by the loss.

Once the CMO made sure that Optimus wasn’t going to topple back down to the ground, he left his commander to go check on the other Autobots.

Wheeljack was the first one that Ratchet found. He quickly pushed up the sleeve of the other man’s lab coat and checked his pulse.

Strong and steady. Good.

Ratchet lightly slapped at Wheeljack’s face, carefully avoiding what looked like a split lip, until the other man began to stir.

Wheeljack managed to shake off the unconsciousness faster than both Optimus and Ratchet had, which was most likely because he was constantly knocking himself out with explosions and experiments at the Ark.

Ratchet snorted at Wheeljacks salt and pepper curly hair and barely managed to suppress the sudden urge to make an old age joke, even though the other man could have been older than 40.

_If Wheeljack is that old in human years, how fragging old am I?!?_

Ratchet quickly pushed that thought out of his head. He could worry about his mid-life crisis later.

The engineer made it quickly to his feet, seemingly unconcerned about their human predicament. Ratchet didn’t find it odd, he knew Wheeljack was an expert at going with the flow. Plus, he thought, Wheeljack would be delighted to run experiments on the machine to figure out how this happened.

Once Ratchet was confident that Wheeljack was okay, he continued his efforts to wake the other Autobots. Optimus had already woken Prowl, clad in a police officer’s jacket, who looked seconds away from fritzing.

(Ratchet wasn’t even sure how that would work as a human, and hoped he didn’t have to find out.)

Ironhide had woken up on his own and was, as usual, always eager for a fight. He was wearing a military camouflage jacket over a red muscle shirt and was enthusiastically ready to lay into the first thing that looked at him wrong.

Leaving the other men to sort themselves out, Ratchet made his way over to the twins who were laying in what seemed to be a large pile of limbs. It seemed that they had been in the middle of their jet judo when the blast wave hit and both the twins and the seekers had gone down in a big pile of unruly bodies.

Sideswipe was sprawled across Thundercracker like a blanket and the formerly blue seeker was curled slightly inwards on his side. Skywarp somehow managed to land across the entire pile, sprawled out like an octopus with limbs going every which way. Sunstreaker was belly down on the ground, being squished by the slightly larger man’s weight.

Ratchet snorted and wished to Primus that he had a camera. This would have been excellent material.

Quietly mourning the missed blackmail opportunity, Ratchet went about slowly maneuvering the twins away from the jets so as to not wake up the Decepticons before the Autobots.

He successfully managed to pry Sideswipe away from Thundercracker without waking the latter and was in the process of bringing him around when he was startled by a sudden groan.

Praying to Primus that it was Sunstreaker waking up and not either of the Cons, Ratchet warily turned around.

His heart dropped as he noticed Skywarp tensing and moaning his way back into consciousness. Realizing that the time for stealth was over, the medic firmly planted a foot on Skywarp’s side and rolled him off of the formerly golden twin. The Con grunted as his head hit the ground and Ratchet made short work of hauling Sunstreaker’s gangly body away from the waking Decepticon.

Sideswipe was already sitting up and running his hands over his body when Ratchet managed to drag Sunstreaker to him. When Sideswipe noticed his brother, he rushed to his side, cradling the other twins face in his hands and placing their foreheads together.

Ratchet was stunned to realize that the brothers were identical as humans instead of fraternal as they had been as mechs. They both had raven black hair, though Sideswipe’s was cut short and Sunstreaker’s was a bit longer and tied in a tight ponytail. The brothers both wore similar clothes; the slack t-shirts tucked loosely into black cargo pants not too dissimilar to his own. The colors of their shirts corresponded with the colors their mechanical bodies had been.

Sunstreaker was beginning to come around at the same time both Thundercracker and Skywarp were shaking off their bouts of unconsciousness. Ratchet strategically placed himself between the still prone Sunstreaker and the Decepticons. He knew that the golden twin was not currently in any position to fight back if the Cons decided to attack.

It was all for naught though as Thundercracker and Skywarp seemed more interested in staring stupidly at their new bodies than attacking the still vulnerable Autobots.

Ratchet snorted at the flabbergasted expressions on both the Decepticons faces just as a loud shriek echoed across the field.

Turning quickly, his eyes focused on the source of the noise.

A black haired man clad in a red, white, and blue pilot jacket was staring in horrifying awe at the hands held out in front of him. The man shakily turned his hands over, examining them from every angle before desperately pressing on the side of his head. Ratchet knew he was trying to access his systems, and was failing for obvious reasons.

Ratchet perceived the moment that Starscream’s higher brain functions took over and the former mech managed to get a handle on his minor panic attack. The former mech took a deep breath in and planted his feet more firmly on the dirt, as if to physically ground himself in the present.

Ratchet almost felt bad for the seeker; the loss of their treasured wings had to be an immense shock.

Seekers used their wings for much more than flying; they were a communication device. Their emotions were more intricately expressed on their wings than anywhere else. Not only that, but their wings were the most important part of a seeker. They were made for the sky, not the ground.

To be grounded for long periods of time could prove dangerous.

The loss of wings seemed to be unbalancing them and Ratchet could see all three seekers rolling their shoulders, tensing and releasing, trying to adjust to the feeling of not having the extra weight on their back.

Taking another glance around, the red haired medic groaned as he realized that the other Decepticons had begun to wake up too. This was going to mean a whole lot of trouble, he could just see it now.

Ratchet rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance, cursing every deity that he could possibly think of for getting them into this mess.

Carefully avoiding any human that he identified as an enemy, he slowly made his way over to Optimus, who was gradually herding the Autobots into a condensed group a short distance away from the waking Decepticons.

_Thank Primus one of us had the notion to separate us._ Ratchet thought wearily. _It would not have ended well if we were left scattered and mingled._

Ratchet had just reached the gathered Autobots when he noticed that Megatron himself had made his way, albeit unsteadily, to his feet. Soundwave, clad in red sunglasses that obscured his eyes, was right by his side in a moment making sure the Decepticon leader was stable.

The warlord was glancing around the battlefield, deep red eyes pausing on the destroyed machine before moving on. After a few moments, he had obviously managed to put together exactly what happened more quickly than Ratchet had originally anticipated.

As much as Ratchet hated to admit it, Megatron was exceptionally intelligent. One doesn’t lead an entire faction for millennia without being so.

The medic turned his attention back to his own faction and narrowed his eyes as he glanced over the aligned Autobots, looking for signs of injury or illness. Never before had he been so grateful to have studied human medicine. He had been against it at first, but after an unfortunate incident with Spike, Wheeljack had managed to convince him to learn everything he could about human anatomy.

He had spent countless hours meticulously scouring the web and any other materials that he could get his hands on. He watched lectures, read medical journals, and studied until he felt that he was proficient in human medicine and his knowledge rivaled that of a human doctor.

Ratchet put this knowledge to good use as he examined his fellow soldiers.

It seemed none of the other warriors had any major injuries. They all had minor scratches and blossoming bruises on their arms and faces, most likely from the explosion and subsequent landing on the harsh ground.

Sunstreaker was nursing what looked like a sizable bump on the back of his head, and Sideswipe was guarding what looked like a sprained wrist. Wheeljack had a few drops of blood on his lab coat from his split lip, which had seemed to have stopped bleeding. 

Finishing his quick exam, Ratchet noticed Ironhide massage at the side of his knee, and Optimus was absentmindedly kneading his left shoulder.

It made him wonder if whatever ailments that they had in their original bodies had been transferred over into their new ones.

If so, Ironhide was going to struggle with arthritis in his knees, Wheeljack was going to be more susceptible to concussions, and Optimus was going to have issues with his long since damaged shoulder. Prowl was going to get painful headaches and the twins were going to have aches from previously broken bones and injured joints.

Ratchet grumbled internally at the thought of dealing with bodies that were much harder to fix that their mechanical ones.

It did seem that the injuries from their most recent battle had not transferred over. Ratchet had to be thankful for small mercies.

No matter what, he was going to need to brush up on his knowledge of human medical treatments and surgeries.

His attempt at mentally cataloguing and reviewing his human medicine was interrupted as Optimus cleared his throat in an attempt to get his men’s attention.

All Autobot heads swiveled around at the sound of their leader’s voice and in an instant they were all standing at attention, waiting for direction from their commanding officer.

Optimus put a hand up.

“At ease. There is no need for formality in this situation. As you can see, we have found ourselves in a predicament.”

Ironhide snorted. "You could say that again."

Optimus continued. “Nothing like this has ever been recorded in our written history. We will need to focus and make a plan before we act on anything. This is all uncharted territory and we must proceed with caution. As for what exactly happened,…”

He paused to take another glance of their surroundings before looking to Wheeljack.

The older man was staring intently at the broken piece of metal in his hands. The engineer quickly sensed someone watching and glanced up, blushing as he dropped his hands.

The Autobot leader inclined his head toward the engineer, which Wheeljack took as a go -ahead to start talking.

"To be honest Prime, I have no idea what happened." He shrugged. "From what I could gather, the humans were trying to make a DNA scanner, but failed."

Sideswipe poked his head into the conversation.

"Can you explain that, ya know, for those of us who don't speak science?" He said cheekily, giving Wheeljack a grin.

The head engineer developed his own grin and nodded excitably at the prospect of being able to discuss science.

"Well, what the machine is supposed to do is scan a sample of DNA and target any incorrect sequences. Things that would cause deformities or other problems in a human offspring for example. Its supposed to target that specific strand and alter it so that it fits better into the sequence therefore drastically decreasing any chanceofdefects-"

"Wheeljack."

"butthisseemstohavetakenourwhole-"

"Wheeljack."

"strandofCNAandtriedtocorrectitbutobviouslythatdid-"

"WHEELJACK!"

The engineer abruptly shut his mouth at the sound of his name, and gave the assembled group a sheepish smile while he tried to catch his breath.

Ratchet shook his head.

"You need to learn to take breaths when going off like that." He chastised.

Sideswipe scratched his head. "So, in simple terms...?"

Optimus stepped into the conversation to summarize.

"It seems that when the machine malfunctioned, it read our CNA as being 'wrong' and attempted to correct it in its entirety, therefore leading to our current predicament."

The former Lamborghini nodded. "I get it. Kinda."

Sunstreaker gave a weary sigh and planted his head in his hands as his twin beamed at him and flopped over his shoulder. His answer was so drop his shoulder and watch apathetically as Sideswipe hit the ground with a yelp.

Smartly ignoring the impending argument between the twins, the Prime turned back to Wheeljack.

"Is there any way to reverse the effects?"

The engineer scratched his head, already forming equations and working out calculations.

"Probably?" he said finally. "I would have to rebuild the machine and try to recreate the accident, but make the default CNA rather than DNA."

Optimus nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but was abruptly cut off as the air was suddenly filled the loud sound of a resounding smack.

All heads instantly swiveled to the source of the noise just in time to see the Decepticon second-in-command hit the ground.

Megatron stood over him, scarred face turned red, surrounded by thoroughly uninterested Decepticons. Ratchet managed to pick up a few stray words of their hushed conversation, including a hissed _“Traitor”_ and a noticeably higher-pitched but defiant _“Frag off!”_

The warlord seemed prepared to resume his ranting when his eyes narrowed and he twisted his head in the direction of the gathered Autobots, lips twisting into a sneer.

“What the frag are you looking at?” He snarled “This does not concern you.”

Ratchet saw Optimus’s eyes narrow into thin slits as he felt his own face form an expression of disgust. None of the Autobots had ever condoned Megatron’s treatment of his second-in-command, but it wasn’t like they had any authority over the interworking of the Decepticon army.

Optimus stepped forward, full of righteous fury, and Ratchet knew the beginning of a “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings” speech when he saw one.

The Autobot leader was interrupted again as Megatron waved his hand impatiently.

“You can save the ‘freedom’ speech. You’ve been preaching the same slag for the last couple millennia.”

Optimus grit his teeth at getting brushed off, but firmly held his temper down as Megatron continued.

“My Air Commander and I’s…” Megatron waved his hand around idly. “…disagreement does matter. However, the catalyst of it does in fact concern you and your Autobots, so it seems fitting that we involve you.”

The warlord straightened his back, giving him a few more precious inches of height even though he already towered over everyone present, and began to pace.

“You see, we seem to be at an impasse. My lieutenant here seems to be under the impression that we should attack; strike you down while you are vulnerable in these forms.”

He paused to give the assembled Autobot’s a predatory grin.

“However.” Megatron waved his hand as if he was tossing the thought away. “I do not believe that is beneficial to us. Both of our armies are weakened by our current predicament and a full-scale assault would simply end in a stalemate.”

Megatron paused, and turned towards the Autobot’s as his face morphed into a serious expression.

“However, I have my own suggestion. I propose a truce.”

There was dead silence across the field and time itself seem to freeze in the moment. Ratchet was, for once, speechless.

_A truce? Megatron wanted a truce?! Absurd._

A barking laugh, devoid of any humor, broke the stillness.

“A truce? A truce?! You ain’t getting no truce, you slagging pit-spawned motherfu-“

Ironhides’ furious tirade was quieted by a glare from Optimus, but the former van continued to mumble expletives under his breath.

There was a muffled snort from one of the Decepticons. Ratchet didn’t see who made the noise, but his credits were on Skywarp if the irate look Thundercracker was giving his now sheepish trinemate was any clue.

Optimus, after making sure there would be no more outbursts from his army, took a cautious step forward.

“What are you proposing, Megatron?”

Megatron took his own step forward to answer.

“As I said before, I suggest a truce. Optimus, at this moment, our past alliances no longer matter. Not while we inhabit these…” He looked down in disgust. “…bodies. This predicament transcends our factions. We need to work together to solve this problem. With our advanced equipment and your men’s scientific minds, we will be able to reverse the machines effects.”

As he had been speaking, Megatron had been moving steadily across the empty space between the factions, and only stopped when he was only a little over arm’s length away from the Autobot leader.

Ratchet growled a warning as Ironhide took a threatening step forward, and Megatron simply raised an eyebrow in response.

Optimus shot them a withering look, but the medic just gave his leader his best unamused glare as an answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ironhide doing the same thing.

Breaking contact with his troops before he did the undignified action of rolling his eyes, Optimus turned back to the Decepticon leader, straightening his spine and crossing his arms across his chest.

“A truce between Autobot and Decepticon. How long do you expect that to last?”

Megatron smirked. “As long as it’s mutually beneficial.”

_Well that was brutally honest._

“And when our proposed shared mission is complete?”

“We go back to what we have been doing for the last slagging millennia.” Megatron replied, obviously annoyed. “But for the time being, it is necessary for our factions to work together. You know as well as I, Optimus, that this is our best chance, even if neither of us are fond of the exact circumstances.”

Optimus was silent for a moment, and Ratchet had been around his friend for long enough to know when he was conflicted.

_On one hand, Megatron may be right._ Ratchet thought. _And the possibility of a truce is too good an opportunity to pass up. On the other hand, they_ are _Decepticons. Deception is literally in their names. Can we really trust anything that he has to say, even if it would indeed benefit them?_

Ratchet gave a slight shake of his head. He was exceptionally glad that he was not in Optimus’ proverbial shoes at the moment.

After what seemed like eternity, but in reality was only a few seconds, Optimus came to a decision.

“It seems that this is indeed the best course of action.” Optimus agreed, and his tone became cold as he continued. “As this will be a truce, I will not tolerate any antagonizing or attacking of my soldiers, and in turn I will ensure that the same applies to your troops.”

Starscream let out a loud snort in the background, and Megatron shot him a warning glare. The seeker glowered right back at his leader, grinding his teeth. There seemed to be a silent conversation, and after a few moments, Starscream huffed and looked away.

Turning back to Optimus, Megatron nodded.

“Agreed.”

Megatron extended a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Optimus steeled his shoulders and took the offered hand, shaking it once and making the truce official.

Ratchet took a second to bask in the moment, for it was the first proper truce made by both faction’s commanders during the entirety of the war.

_Maybe this is the beginning of the end of this war. If we can work together now, perhaps something good may come out of this in the long run._

Ratchet could only hope that the end was in sight.

The field was quiet as the factions sized each other up. There were a few nerve-wracking moments of silence until the tense air was broken by a sheepish Wheeljack as he stuck his head out from the assembled Autobots.

“So, does anyone know how we are supposed to contact base?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, I managed to stick to my goal posting date. Yay.  
> This is the last of what I have pre-written. I have an outline, but I barely have a page of chapter 3 written. It will probably take a little longer to get that one up and posted. I'm aiming for October 4th. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you are all enjoying the adventure.  
> As usual, kudo's and reviews are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here we go!. I can't promise quick updates (I am a full time paramedic student, I mean really. I barely have a social life as is) but I can promise that no matter how long the time between updates may be, this will never be abandoned. 
> 
> I am going to try for either weekly or bi-weekly updates.
> 
> On another note, it would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas around with. If anyone wants to help, write a comment and I'll get back to you!
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos are appreciated.


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